Dear Eugene

Dear Eugene, There is no bad photographer in this day and age. Or there shouldn't be any. I don't know if you have a camera phone and had done this before: You took a picture without you knowing, pressed the screen by mistake as your arm swung.  And by the time you witnessed the result of the accident you said to yourself, Hey, that doesn't look too bad at all . In fact, it was downright beautiful. So I have a good phone, you said, with a good camera, high definition, great detail, automated luminosity balancing and color enhancement, all these, working together, and a fleeting, lucky happenstance.  You said. I said. What I failed to say is the (much) more obvious: That this world is just downright beautiful.  (And my camera just happened to call me out of my unawareness and forgetfulness.) And if the result of my many "accidents" looks purposeless or meaningless or lifeless, all it takes is a little reframing, cutting off distracting elements f...

Dear Eugene, I've finally gotten myself a real camera. (Actually my cellphone is probably good enough.  But I allowed myself the little pleasure.  Just a little.) What a beautiful creature!  I exclaimed when I first took it out of the box. How much human ingenuity is involved to put this together, to make it not just functional, but also  beautiful , for one to not only see the world through it, but also see a world in it?!  Who put together the multitude of diverse expertise--engineering, resource procurement, finance, just to name a few--to speak it into existence, from conception to gestation to birth?  And which stork carried it across the ocean to find my clumsy hands? Who am I to deserve something so beautiful?  And how am I to respond to its beauty? I shall honor the Creator every time I lay a four-line boundary to capture a fragment of his boundless greatness. Yours, Alex